


The Rush

by samtheboyking, uwu



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 11:37:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1468060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samtheboyking/pseuds/samtheboyking, https://archiveofourown.org/users/uwu/pseuds/uwu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a job it's always tense, but Seth knows just how to take the edge off for Richie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rush

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this but havent started my fdtd exchange why

Surprisingly, Richie still has enough common sense about him to use the hand that isn’t blood stained and tacky to open up the motel door when they get back. It swings in with enough force to hit the wall and bounce back on its hinges, but who gives a fuck if their neighbors in the next room turn in a noise complaint. They'll only have another few good hours here, tops. Seth's always good about getting them out before things heats up; usually.

But at the moment everything is good, great even, and Richie’s mind is still racing from the last job they pulled, heart still beating loud and clear, blood pounding in his ears. There’s nothing like the feeling after a job, nothing like shrugging off his suit jacket and throwing it over the back of a chair, not minding that he left the motel door open, because Seth’s got it, Seth is always on top of this shit even when Richie sometimes forgets that it’s not ordinary for passersby to see a pile of bloody clothing on the floor, or the drops of red splattered all over his face.

Seems perfectly normal to him.

He doesn’t have a moment to calm down before Seth’s on him. (He gets like this after jobs, especially if Richie’s gotten hurt).

For the moment, Richie doesn’t think he’s hurt. There’s a fair amount of blood, that’s obvious, but he’s not sure any of it’s his. And if it is, he has yet to feel a thing. No throb of a bullet wound or ache of a puncture, even though one of the security guards had tried to be a hero back there. Bad call on his part. Richie’s not sure just how upset Seth is at him for that one, but what was there to do with bullets flying at them, until Richie had taken care of it, disregarding his brother’s shouting; though he’s not sure whether Seth was yelling more at him, or the guard.

He almost feels frustrated, it’s not his fault he got shot, but it’s Seth. It doesn’t register until Seth’s pushed him down on the bed that he isn’t angry. He can feel his mouth tugging up into a smirk; this part is almost as fun as the job.

Richie’s hands level on the mattress and he leans back, tips his face to his brother. “The sheets are going to be a mess.” Not that it bothers him, but the cleaning ladies will sure be getting a surprise, and it’s usually the type of thing Seth would want to avoid. He can feel the dripping now, and that’s definitely his own; at his arm, right below his shoulder, a slow, slick trickle past his elbow. This shirt is definitely ruined.

Seth doesn’t bother responding and instead pushes him down into the mattress and kisses him. There’s no arguing with that, Richie kissing back, though there’s a muffled noise passed between their lips. Richie’s fingers curl into the sheets as he’s pushed further up the bed, leaves a red trail from where the blood is dripping out from his sleeve. Richie arches up, wanting to be closer to Seth, needing to be closer. He finds the back of Seth’s neck with a hand, tries to pull him in closer, glasses getting knocked sideways in the rush.

There’s too much clothing between them, not enough contact. Richie just wants, he doesn’t care that he’s hurt and bleeding everywhere, he just wants Seth. His shirt feels heavy with how much blood is soaked in but that doesn’t stop him from pulling away to undo the buttons as fast as he can, finally tossing it to the side carelessly. Turns out, it’s just a graze, despite how much he seems to be bleeding, but it’s the last thing on Richie’s mind as he grabs insistently at Seth’s hip to drag him closer.

Seth seems distracted, and he knows its because of the scrape, that Seth wants (needs) to take care of him, but he wants to fuck (get fucked who cares). “Come on, Seth,” he mumbles into his brother’s neck, the sly curve of his mouth pressed into Seth’s skin. He tugs at his brother’s wrist, and before now Seth had been spotless (how the fuck did he always manage to get out spotless?), but he’s gone and fixed that; bloody hand pulling Seth in, lining them up while Richie breathes in against Seth’s skin.  “Come on, brother.”

He goes for Seth’s shirt next, with every intention of moving things along, faster, he can never get Seth on him quick enough. He even gets so far as shoving his brother’s jacket from his shoulders before there are hands cupping either side of his face, exceedingly soft, especially since he’s fucking fine, it’s only a scratch and the blood doesn’t bother him.

He can feel himself becoming more frustrated. He wants Seth’s hands on him, but not like this, not right now while his blood is still alive and pounding. But even when he goes again to pull his brother closer Seth merely stands his ground.

“Hey, Richie, brother. Look at me now.” Seth’s hands guide his face upwards until they’re face to face.

“I’m fine.” That should be clear. But Seth is still looking long and hard at him, brows raising just the slightest as he tips his head to then inspect his arm. Richie tracks the movement and lets out a short huff. “It’s fine.”

Seth purses his lips, and doesn’t stop inspecting his wound. “Come on, Seth, just-”, he stops frustrated.

“Fuck,” Seth breathes out, a hand falling away from Richie’s face so he can run over the spot where the bullet had grazed, just enough to bleed; like he couldn’t have just taken Richie’s word for it, had to make sure.

“Exactly.” Richie gives his brother a pointed look before pushing back, sliding off the bed and blatantly ignoring the look Seth gives him as he goes for his bag. “Lube,” Richie mumbles a response to the question Seth doesn’t ask, and nor is he going to pay attention to the way Seth will try to pull him in again and bandage up his arm first; he’s done waiting. Done even now as he rummages through what sparse belongings he carries on him, because somewhere in there is the lube from the last time they bothered to hold off long enough to actually use it.

He can’t help but let out a triumphant sound when he find the lube, and he can almost feel Seth’s fondness radiating off him.

It’s hard not to smile at his brother, Richie’s eagerness or the way his own smile widens when he returns to the bed. Seth catches the small bottle when Richie tosses him at it, watches intently as his brother begins to work at the button on his pants. “Sure you don’t want me to patch that--”

Richie’s kissing him before he can finish. Seth’s hands move to his brother’s hips on impulse, keep him steady as there’s the slight edge of teeth biting at his lip. His fingers slip their way beneath the hem of his brother’s pants and it’s almost too easy to slide everything down in one go, until Richie is standing there with clothing pooled around his feet while he’s hardly gotten his jacket off in contrast. He can’t help but feel like this is right, that this is the way it’s supposed to happen.

For Richie, it couldn’t be fast enough. While Seth is intent to pull his bottom lip between his teeth and suck, Richie is pulling off his brother’s shirt, breaking them apart and not pausing for a moment to pull away Seth’s pants, boxers sliding down quickly after.

The second he gets Seth’s clothes off he’s back on him; kissing beneath Seth’s jaw, running the edge of his teeth along the skin there, until he feels Seth’s hands go to the back of his head, fingers threading into his hair and tugging.

“Come on, come on Seth,” he just wants to get fucked, he wants Seth to hurry the fuck up.

“Patience, brother,” Seth huffs a laugh and guides Richie’s head back to look him in the eyes, before shoving him back down to the mattress again. Seth climbs up after him, kneels between Richie’s legs and pops the cap of the lube open. Richie spreads his legs, eager to get started. ”What’s the rush? You act like you just robbed a bank.” Seth smirks and dribbles lube into his palm. Rather than reaching for Richie though he takes his own dick in hand, slides from base to tip and lets out a short groan, elbow knocking into Richie’s spread legs.

“ _Seth_ ,” Richie warns.

“ _Richie_.”

Richie grabs at Seth’s hips, and Seth just gives him a lopsided grin. Seth grabs at the lube again and slicks up his fingers and before Richie has time to register it he’s getting fingered. There’s not one but two pressing against him, and never mind that there’s resistance. Seth keeps pressing and Richie is shoving hips back, looking for more.

Seth chuckles and it only has Richie scowling, eyes narrowed as he tries to bend into the thrust of his brother’s fingers, still not enough.

Richie’s had enough, more than enough. He flips them over so he’s on top. Seth’s back hits the mattress before he has time to even consider Richie climbing on top, bracing himself with both legs against his brother’s sides. Richie smirks down at him before grabbing his dick and positioning it so he can sink down on it.

“Shit, Richie--” Seth’s hands reach for his brother’s hips to hold him there, his own hips canting up. Richie’s got a wide smile, he finally got what he wanted, as he rides Seth. Seth leans his head back into the pillow and let’s Richie have the control.

With his hands against Seth’s chest for leverage Richie pulls up, grinds down, sets the pace fast enough to feel the burn, finally something to counteract the feel of drying blood on him, something so much better. There’s nothing better than this, the way Seth looks up at him, features softening, hands gripping him tight but not guiding, just keeping him anchored.  

Seth grabs at Richie’s hips, “How do you feel about some burgers after?” Richie smiles.


End file.
